Because There Is None To Be Found
by Sugarbubbleslove
Summary: He is forever haunted by what he could have had, just by watching them and seeing her within their features. 3/4 - Follows 'To The Maker For Salvation' - Set within Dragon Age II, Anders/F-Hawke, Bethany/Keran


Title: Because There is none to be Found

Characters: Cullen, Anders, Bethany, Keran, Marian Hawke

Pairings: Anders/Marian, Bethany/Keran, past Cullen/Solona Amell

Rating: Mature

Disclaimer: I do not own anyone/anything from the forum Dragon Age. Bioware owns Dragon Age and its characters. There is no copyright infringement intended. I do not make any profit/money or take any credit.

Summary: He is forever haunted by what he could have had, just by watching them and seeing her within their features.

Timeline: Dragon Age II (Act 1/Act 2)

Warning: hints of sexual themes, angst

Author's Notes: Yes, I have a fascination of Bethany/Keran thanks to a kink-meme I read (It contains Bethany/Keran/Cullen and wasn't finished *pouts*) and I somehow think it could just work out!

And I hated the fact that if I wanted to play Mage-Hawke, I had to sacrifice Bethany – who I adore and prefer over Carver anytime – so pretend you can have both girls if you chose Mage-Hawke *sticks tongue out at Bioware*

Follows: '_Tear Your Heart out and Pray_', '_To the Maker for Salvation_' (noticing a trend here?)

'Because There Is None to Be Found'

'_Tear your Heart out and pray to the Maker for salvation because there is none to be found here within my arms.'_

He knew the moment he saw them, the sisters standing side-by-side as he faced off Wilmod who had become an abomination. He could sense they were mages and he stood transfixed as they worked in harmony together.

The eldest sister proficient in fire magic, bending it to her will and the air shimmering, her green eyes lightning up from the inside, the youngest sister proficient in lightning magic, the air turning heavy and crackling, creating a barrier around her.

It reminded him so much of her, the way her hips would sway, her fingers twitching, the way she turned graceful on the battlefield, practice or real, commanding the battle. Her lips would turn blue, frost falling onto her hair and her hands sparking with ice magic. Her skin would take on a shiny crystallised texture, glittering in the light.

She was every inch the ice mage she had portrayed in her image of an Ice Princess the Templars and other mages would call her. There had been few bets on who would be the one to defrost her but she always held them at bay with a frosty glare or a word filled with ice.

He missed her so much, missed the way she melted around him, the way she would touch him, the way her fingers would glide over his skin, her breath at his collarbone, the feel of her curly dark-red hair in his hands.

He came out of his thoughts before they could go further and concentrated on the battle before him. He had to save his Templar from himself and dealt the final blow, uttering a prayer for the young man who had succumbed to temptation, forced or willing he would soon find out.

Upon looking at the sisters once more, they had introduced themselves as Marian and Bethany Hawke, the youngest looking nervous at being in the presence of a Templar. The oldest, a tad braver, reminding him of her whenever she stood up to him.

It made his heart hurt to remember her, to know that he could still have her within his reach and how easy it could have been to use the sisters as a replacement…but he never dared, because he knew, no matter how much he wanted it, they would never be her…just parts.

He saw her eyes in the eldest sister, those green eyes that looked straight into him and saw the human part of him, the gentle smile in the youngest sister, the warm feeling that would caress his heart. Until he lost the memory of the smile to the memory of her angry features, haunting his dreams more than he would like.

He hated watched them from a distance. He heard rumours surrounding the group and it reminded him of her group and the second hand news he would receive. They were a close knit group, even though they had their disagreement and arguments, they still stood by each other, helping them in their own ways.

He would never forget getting the news from Knight-Commander Meredith that Bethany Hawke was a mage. He and Keran had known, kept silent about it yet she had fallen into their laps and they were forced to follow orders, taking her to the circle.

At first, he had been relieved that Marian Hawke had not been there then grew concerned as their mother became hysterical at them for taking her daughter away. Bethany had tried to stay strong in the wake of her mother's breakdown, giving her that smile and hugging her.

Then the moment he dreaded most came to life. The door open and Marian's cheerful voice saying her trip had given them what they needed to protect Bethany filled the room before she entered it.

He dared to turn around and saw that look in her eyes, the confusion then understanding…then rage. He flinched; it was the same rage that had been directed at him by the woman he loved after he declared all Mages were dangerous.

The moment he saw her stance shift, he knew she was preparing to fight them, to reveal her magic to them and he stood in front of Bethany.

"We are taking your sister to the circle," he told her. Her eyes harden at his words and he begged to the Maker that she wouldn't reveal herself to the others otherwise he would be forced to take her into the Circle and he didn't think he would be able to resist with the two of them surrounding them, reminding him of her.

"Like Hell…" she started but Bethany pushed past him, gripping her sister's hands.

"Sister, please," she begged. Marian met Bethany's pleading brown eyes. "It will be safer."

"No," Marian shook her head, refusing to listen. "I will not let you go."

"It is my choice," Bethany whispered. He watched as Marian deflated before his very eyes, tears filling those green eyes and he looked away, gritting his teeth. That memory swam in front of his mind eye.

She had been given the chance to gather her stuff before leaving with Duncan, the Grey Warden who conscripted her. Within the silence of her room, she broke down and he had come to her comfort, holding her in his arms. She looked up at him with her green eyes bright with tears, begging him to believe her when she said she didn't know about Jowan.

He knew she was telling the truth, she could never lie to him with those eyes and he told her he believed her. She closed her eyes, tears spilling over her cheeks and he kissed them away, wishing they had time for him to make love to her one last time.

She had whispered 'one day' to his lips as they kissed before they parted and he had held onto those words…until Uldred had come back, declaring the Grey Wardens had betrayed the King and everyone had been slaughtered before being caught in Uldred's trap.

He came out of his thoughts to see the sisters embrace, tears running down their cheeks before he stepped up behind Bethany and gently extricated her from Marian's embrace. The eldest sister tightened her hold but a whisper from Bethany caused her to relent and she stepped back, allowing Cullen to take her sister away.

It had broken his heart to hear the sobs from the broken family, to tear a young woman away from her family but it had been his orders and for the first time, he could see Alistair's view on Templars.

Bethany had completed her Harrowing, she had been quicker than anyone else, explaining her father had undergone the Harrowing and had explained it to her – the Templars had been furious that an apostate who had managed to escape the Circle had managed to have children and explained the forbidden rites.

Cullen would never understand why they insisted on keeping the nature of the Harrowing a secret, he felt the Mages failed the tests because they weren't given a chance and he had wondered, more than once, if they wanted it that way. The more Mages falling to demons provided proof in their belief that all Mages couldn't resist the allure of having more power.

He hated that they would have the chance, he watched Bethany, the newest circle's member and Keran, the young Templar they had saved, interact with each other.

He would gently touch her elbow and she would smile shyly, a faint blush kissing her cheeks before they returned to the book. He hadn't failed to notice that Keran had taken it upon himself to protect Bethany, to be her bodyguard.

He had heard whispers of how the Templars would like to break her, to make her their plaything but he had been strict in his punishment if he caught a Templar breaking a rule that the whispers slowly died down.

But it didn't stop Keran from claiming Bethany as his…and as far as he could see, Bethany had no problem with that, smiling whenever she saw Keran. It shot pain through his heart to see that smile directed at another man.

They were similar, both studious and serious yet they were so different. Bethany was willing to socialise with the other mages, teach the younger ones and help struggling students whenever they asked for her help. She was kind to both mages and Templars which helped the Templars to warm up to her. Very much like her cousin.

Yet Bethany had an innocence that her cousin never had, he wondered if it was because Bethany led a sheltered life due to knowing she was born with magic while her cousin had never displayed magic until a moment had forced her hand.

Keran stammered whenever she smiled at him, blushing whenever she would touch his arm then they would switch places, he would become more confident, brushing a lock of her hair away from her face and she would be the one blushing.

A sight oh-so familiar. It made his heart ache for those innocent moments he once had.

He saw how different this circle was from Ferelden. The Templars of Kirkwall were stricter, they were determined to turn harrowed Mages into Tranquil, and they had succeeded at first until the Ring-Leader, Ser Otto Alrik, had turned up dead.

He had launched an investigation in why he had been killed, obviously by a group involving mages, swords and arrows when he received a letter, anonymous, that Ser Otto Alrik had been forcing Mages, who had passed their Harrowing, into Tranquil and had been using them for his own perverted pleasure.

He had been furious, especially when he found there were Templars who were still abusing the Tranquils and rooted them out. They had told him that Ser Alrik had given them permission and they didn't see why they should stop. He got rid of them by handing them to Meredith, who promptly stripped them of their ranks and threw them into the cells.

She was tough on mages but she was tougher on Templars who abused their positions and power, she was trying to encourage mages to give themselves up to the circles only to have her mission undermined by Templars like Ser Alrik.

Once it had been clear that the Knight-Commander or the Knight-Captain weren't going to stand for those rites, the Templars had decreased their whispers and comments, had stopped toeing the line and did their job of watching and protecting the Mages.

It had allowed Bethany and Keran the freedom they needed to be able to communicate with each other, to be near each other and it made him long for those days.

Every night he would return to his room and he would be haunted by his memories of her and it only worsen whenever he saw Bethany or Marian do something similar to her. Like in the way they laughed, they tilted their head slightly to the side, much like she used to do.

The way Bethany walked would bring up the images of her hips swaying before him then it would change to her hips swaying above him, his hands gripping them.

The way Marian would bite her bottom lip would make him groan. She had always had that habit and it made him want to kiss her, to soothe the sting her bite must have caused, to nibble her full bottom lip.

Even far away from the Circle he once knew her…he was still haunted by her in her family and he wonders if the Maker was punishing him for losing one of the best things in his life.

He had seen Marian Hawke and the Apostate – Anders. He remembered Anders from the Ferelden Circle. He had escaped seven times; six times he had been caught and punished severely. It had been nearly a breaking point between him and Solona when she found out what the Templars had been doing to Anders.

The last he had heard, Anders had been conscripted into the Grey Warden, which is why he had ordered the Templars to leave him alone. Even though there were rumours that he had ran away from the Grey Wardens, he knew if it turned out that he was still with the Grey Warden and the Templars made to harm him, nothing would prevent Solona's wrath from crashing down on them.

They had learned that lesson the hard way when she discovered Anders locked up in the tiny cell with no window and no light in a bid to break him, to get him to turn to either blood magic or demons. It hadn't been pretty for the Templars who had been involved, even First- Enchanter Irving and Knight-Commander Gregoir had been shocked at her temper, and power.

He would watch from the distance as Marian would laugh in the healer's arms, her face bright with happiness. Even Anders looked happy, a far cry from the stubborn rebellious mage he once knew.

He watched the way she would reach up and touch Anders' cheek with tenderness, her fingers tracing his features and he remembered Solona doing that to him one morning. She had woken up before him and told him she wanted to memorise his features.

His hands bunched up into fists, his fingers tingling with the sense memory of tracing her features, memorising them. Even now, after so long, he could almost feel the soft skin under his fingertips, the feel of her eyelashes fluttering against his fingers and the feel of her lips curling up under his touch.

It always took his breath away at how potent his memories were, how it feels like it had been just that morning he could have touched her, tasted her instead of being all those years ago.

Marian and Bethany knew nothing of him and Solona, something he was willing to hide but he saw the knowing look in Anders' eyes whenever they crossed path, a rare occasion. And he was painfully reminded that Anders had spent time with Solona when he became a Grey Warden, he learned of everything that had happened.

It had shamed him to see the disappointment in Anders' brown eyes when they first met again. Anders had always treated him kindly despite being a Templar. He knew of his and Solona's relationship and he kept it hidden despite his hate toward Templars.

Solona had once told him it was because Cullen treated him like a human begin, not just a cursed mage. And because he had fought for Anders, understanding why the Mage continued to escape despite the harsh punishment he received whenever he was caught.

It was almost laughable that he would feel shame over getting disappointment from a mage but it had burned him and he looked away, unable to hold back the memories of Solona within his arms, for a brief while, she had belonged to him.

But the more astonishing thing was…Anders never said a word to Marian or Bethany. Both of them looked at him with dark eyes, bright smile, warm and cheerful. Marian's a little darker as the memory of him taking her sister to the Circle still burned in her mind but there was no indication that they even knew of his love for a cousin of theirs.

But then again, Anders had always held a good amount of respect for Solona. Both of them had been good friends at the Circle and the bond had only deepened when she saved him from the Templars then conscripted him into the Grey Wardens.

He failed to count how many times he had tried to explain to Anders only to fail, words refusing to form. How do you apologise to the friend of the woman you loved? How do you say you are sorry to him when you couldn't even form the word to the woman herself?

He envied the men; they had the chance with the women they loved. Keran had the chance with Bethany, to love and hold her, to have that smile directed in his way. He wasn't blind that he couldn't see Keran daydreaming, smiling into space.

The other Templars would make remarks but it was usually accompanied by a shaking of head and soft chuckling by those who recognised the look.

He sees the way Bethany would sway on her feet whenever she was deep in thought before a smile would tug at her lips, her fingers brushing them – a memory of a kiss – he had seen Solona do that many times.

He had come across them in the middle of the night during his rounds; they would be in the corner, sharing soft kisses and touching hair and faces. Young love, it would either deepen over time or it would fizzle out like fireworks. He wondered, and hoped, that it might be love for them.

He would watch as Anders reach out to touch Marian, playing with her chocolate-tresses. The way her green eyes would glance in his direction filled with emotions. The way she would curl into his body, resting her head under his chin and kissing his neck.

He had never seen two people look more content than he did with them. They were apostates, hiding from Templars and ensuring their own protection yet they cherished every moment they had together, knowing with their lives, it could be short-lived and they would rather they regretted nothing.

Late at night, locked away within his own quarter (he was Knight-Captain so he was given his own room – something that took a while to get used to), he would be haunted by his memories of her in his dreams.

He remembered the first time they had lain together, the shy eagerness of the virgin beneath his body, the way she gasped his name, her fingers curling into his light-blonde hair and her hips arching up into his, pleading for his touch.

It had taken his breath away at how responsive she had been, how right their bodies had fitted together – it was like they were two pieces of a puzzle. She responded to his every touch and he stirred at hers.

It had been a sweet moment but it turned him on to remember how sweet and innocent she had been; how eager she had been for his touch. He swallowed heavily as he felt heat curl within him.

She had only gotten bolder as they got to know the others' body, her fingers seeking out his sweet spots, her thighs clenching as she raised and lowered herself on him. That smile curling those devious sinful red lips, puffy from their kisses.

She learned what turned him on and used them. He could almost feel her slim fingers sliding around his wrists, pinning them down as she took control, slowing her movements, tightening around him and gasping his name then throwing him that devious grin.

He remembered the way her hair would flow down her back as she arched her body, her head falling back and her eyes fluttering close whenever she reached her peak. It always drew a groan of her name from his lips, leaving him wondering who voice that was.

She knew what buttons to press when she wanted him to take control. He had been hesitating at first about being dominating but she confessed to him, in her sultry low tones, that she fantasied about it, about him gripping her hips to the point of bruising, forcing himself into her over and over allowing pain to mix with pleasure.

The feel of his teeth sinking into her skin, marking her and proving to the other Templars and Mages that she belonged to him and only him. His fingers digging into her thighs, leaving behind bruises as he opened her up to him, proving that he was the only man who was allowed to touch and see her like this.

It had turned him on that his control snapped and he took her, it ended with her nails raking down his back, leaving him scratch marks that he had to be careful to hide the next morning but it never failed to bring a smile to his lips whenever he felt the sting.

He had sunk his teeth into her shoulder, leaving behind his mark. She had flushed when she had saw it in the looking-glass the next morning, fingering it with a tender smile playing on those lips before she shot him a look filled with desire over her shoulder through the glass.

He had a similar marking on his chest from where she muffled her screams and his fingers had left bruises on her thighs. She had also been walking with a slight limp the next, allowing him to swell with satisfied male smugness – something she had teased him with.

Memories like those would haunt his dream; remind him of what he had within his arms. He would always be transported to their secret room and feel her skin against his, their breath mingling together.

He could envision her arching, her fingers exploring and lips caressing. He could almost taste her, holding her down, her fingers tangling in his hair and tugging. The feel of her lips around him, her green eyes flicking up to meet his.

He would wake up, sweating, hot, hard and heavy as he panted her name, his right hand searching the bed for her slender warm body only to encounter cold sheets and reality crashing into him.

He had lost her.

The End

Sequel: '_Within My Arms_' is coming soon (Will be posted only on AO3, Deviant Art, and Livejournal due to Adult Contents - links are in my profiles)

And yes, I'm taking liberations with how the spells affects the mages (my own little head canon regarding that ^^)


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